Missing Time
With a start, he woke up clasping a pillow in a light, airy bedroom. Beams of watery winter sunlight hurt his eyes and forced them closed. He took some air through his nostrils; they filled with a hint of perfume and the faint musky smell of sex. He had no idea where he was. Rolling onto his back, his body complained with a dull ache and so did his morning glory. His mind blank, whatever he had done and whoever he had done it with - it had been strenuous, very strenuous. He ventured to open his...
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